Brave Trilogy
by somewherexthere
Summary: COMPLETE, BRAVE TRILOGY! Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger brave the factors which separated them after the war. DMHG
1. Bravery

A/N I decided to just group all of the Brave series together, so if you have read this before, this is NOT taken from another author! :)

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Bravery is a multitude of things. Bravery is facing your fears. Bravery is risking your life for those you love. Bravery is standing up for what is right. Bravery is letting someone else know who you are. Bravery is forgiving. Bravery is loving. Bravery is a Gryffindor trait.

And there is a reason why Draco Malfoy was made a Slytherin.

_**Facing your fears**_

He watched from the sidelines as she screamed in horror, the pain evident in her eyes and posture. She must not be realizing that she's screaming and crying. She would be too proud to do so. The pain must have been agony. Yet she faced her fears, letting Bellatrix have her way with her. Aunt Bellatrix, the terrible woman whose deranged smile made everything in the world worse by tenfold.

Everyone was scared; it would have been stupid not to be. In fact even daft ol' Weasley must have been afraid. What mattered, though, was that they still stood head on. Bloody Gryffindors and their reckless bravery. It would be their most admirable trait, and the downfall of them all. Draco was sure of it.

He wanted nothing but to run in and stop his aunt from hurting her anymore, carving the word "Mudblood" into her arm. It would be permanent, as permanent as the Dark Mark that rested on his arm. The scars would be just as terrible a reminder for both of them; it was a battle scar that would inflict more wounds in the heart every time it was looked at. He knew of it, he felt it every day when he changed in the morning, showered… every time he looked at the cursed mar on his pale skin. Now she would have the same feeling deep in her gut whenever she looked at her arm. The beautiful arm that led to the powerful fist that knocked him against a tree in third year.

He wanted to stop all of this from happening, but he couldn't face his fears. He was a Slytherin, after all.

_**Risking your life**_

She was so stupid for running in at the last minute. A distraction so the Dark Lord wouldn't focus on Potter, just so Potter could say the fatal words to the curse. Stupid. Bloody stupid. What if Potter hadn't said it in time? What if the Dark Lord cursed her before he was cursed? She could have died.

But of course, she was Hermione Granger, and Hermione Granger would do anything, even die, to make sure everyone else lived. She would die for her friends and family. She would die for people she didn't know, because they too, had friends and family who cared for them.

He wished he could say that he would have thrown himself in front of her to block any curse that came her way before Potter killed the insensitive bastard, but he knew he wouldn't have. He would have been too afraid to risk his life. Not only would he be hurt, but as a traitor, he'd have to go through bouts of torture before death. Maybe it wasn't so much as not being brave, than being selfish. But one thing was certain, he didn't want to have to explain to himself why he would have saved her, and he was too much of a coward to risk his life for something that might not be. She might not love him back. Again, Draco wasn't brave enough to be a Gryffindor, and it applied to this, as well.

_**Letting someone know who you are**_

He'd gone on years with calling her, "Mudblood." The word meant nothing to him at all. Well, perhaps it did. It meant the repression that he faced on a daily basis from his father. Lucius Malfoy was not a kind man, and he'd taught Draco all that he knew. Or thought he knew, at the very least. Draco Malfoy was a smart boy. He knew that blood was insignificant. There was nothing as inferior blood, or superior blood. Blood was blood; blood was thicker than water; blood was crimson red when spilt; blood gives life. Blood was simply blood, and if vampires thought all blood was created equal, who was he to judge? After all, vampires were the royal blood geniuses, and if they could tell no difference between muggle blood and purebred blood, what was the difference?

Of course, there were differences in blood types. Type A, AB, B, and O. But other than that, that was really it. Oh, and there were differences in blood for those with diseases like leukemia, sickle cell anemia, and such. There were also differences in the blood of people around the world. He reckoned blood from the United States would taste sweeter and thicker than everyone else's, as they were such an unhealthy bunch, but other than that, wizarding blood and muggle blood were no different.

He couldn't let anyone else know that was how he felt, of course. Otherwise, he would have been severely punished, and he couldn't stand writhing around in pain.

His father would excuse it as a lack of grace due to being a Mudblood, but Hermione Granger was quite different. She let people know exactly who she was – a bookworm with a tendency of being overly-annoying when it came to knowledge. She'd lecture everyone about anything and everything because she knew that she knew everything better. It was simply a trait of hers she flaunted, because she was confident of herself. She was brave enough to let people know exactly who she was.

Of course, she had her pride, too. He knew he hurt her every time he called her that disgusting label, and she'd hold back the tears. That's not about not letting someone know who you are. That was categorized with the above: facing your fears. She'd face him every day, throwing back insults to mask her pain. She wouldn't back down or give up, and let him know he got to her. He knew, nonetheless, and it pained him. But he couldn't let her see who he really was. He couldn't let the world know who he was. He simply wasn't brave enough.

_**Forgiving**_

He'd never forget the way she looked at him that day. His father had been sentenced to Azkaban, and he was granted a pardon. Well, not quite a pardon. Simply house arrest, but that was almost a pardon in his mind. He had thought he'd share a cell with Lucius for the rest of his father's life, and spend the rest of his own rotting alone. His mother had fled the country, too cowardly to face anyone. Again, his mother wasn't a Gryffindor, either. He half wanted to flee with his mother, but if he did, he wouldn't have had the chance to at least look at her one last time before he was shut away.

Her eyes were sympathetic, empathetic, and _forgiving_. In that instant, he knew that she forgave him for everything. She forgave him for his cruel words, for being the cause of Dumbledore's death, for standing there as she was being tortured, for not lying to save their lives, and for simply existing. She forgave him for all the things he wasn't sure he could forgive himself for.

He should have not said those words. He should have defied his father's word. He should have taken punishment for his actions or even go to the old bint himself for help. Instead, he let himself drown in the pressures of society and almost went along with the plan. When he was too cowardly to do so, Snape had to save his arse by killing Dumbledore himself. He'd been too afraid to stand up for what was right. He was too afraid to risk his life. He made Snape kill his only friend and confidant. He was a miserable excuse of a life, and as far as he was concerned, he deserved to rot in Azkaban with Lucius Malfoy.

Then she came to him, and apologized that his father was going to be locked up. Surely she shouldn't think he actually cared for his father, did she? Of course, he had never shown his true opinions, it was only expected that she thought he worshipped the ground his father walked on. It might have been true at one point, when he was young and spoiled with all the riches he wanted. But as he grew older, punishment was served on a cold platter; excruciating pain from curses showed him that his father loved no one but his own ideals. But they weren't even his own ideals, were they? They were the Dark Lord's. Voldemort's. His father was nothing but a coward, listening to someone else's words, because he was too afraid to make his own theory. Like father like son, of course. He, too, was a coward, and he couldn't bring himself to forgive.

_**Loving**_

What came out of her lips next shocked him. "Love yourself, you deserve it." She must have been insane.

"Granger, was there something my aunt had done to you afterwards?"

"No, I just want you to love yourself. You're not bad, you just never loved yourself enough." Of course, loving yourself would require self confidence. He didn't exactly have self confidence, now, did he? He was too afraid to even be his own person.

"I love myself plenty, Granger."

"No, you acted arrogant because you wanted to seem like you love yourself. I can see right through you. You're nothing but a scared boy, and deep inside, you know you're not your father."

Dead on. No wonder why she is the smartest witch of her age. She was breaking him down, piece by piece. He wondered if he knew his darkest secret. Like the coward he was, instead of showing his true emotions, he decided to hide. "I should hope I'm not Lucius, or I'd be rotting in Azkaban!"

"There you go with the mask again, Draco." She'd called him by his first name, "I know you better than you think. You never meant a word you said to me. You were simply terrified of consequences. We were young, I forgive you. You couldn't have risked your life to stop your lunatic aunt. I forgive you. We were forced to grow up under dire circumstances. You couldn't have been yourself. It would have been simply suicide. I forgive you, Draco. I forgive you for everything. I only wish you could love yourself enough to forgive as well."

It was almost surreal to have this conversation with her outside the Ministry. Potter and Weasley had already gone after the hearings. It was too much for them to bear, looking back at the faces of the people who hurt them all. The casualties were numerous, and if Malfoy remembered correctly, one of the Weasley twins had died. Yet here she was, standing alone, not flanked by her usual body guards, talking to him. _Him_, Draco Malfoy, the boy whose existence was torture for her every day in Hogwarts. And she forgave him for all his sins. "No, you can't forgive me. You wouldn't have done the same things I did. You would have stood up against your father, you would have done anything to stop injustice, including risking your life. You wouldn't have been afraid to be yourself. The things I did wrong were the things I chose to do wrong. You can't forgive me."

"But I can, Draco," she whispered, "I forgave you the moment I defended you against Harry and Ron. I forgave you when I told them that you were just a boy being forced to grow up in a family too cold to warm your heart. I forgave you when I fell in love with you."

Damn the Slytherin code of honour, he was going to convert to a Gryffindor. He kissed her then, because that was what Gryffindors do. They had the bravery to be who they were, and he wanted to kiss her. Perhaps it was still cowardly, because he now knew for sure that she wouldn't reject him. After all, she just confessed in loving him. Maybe being a stupid, brave Gryffindor wasn't so bad. Having the bravery to love was a beautiful thing.


	2. Bravery Lost

He was the rational choice. He was her best friend and he liked her well enough. He loved her, even. He gave her all he had. After the war, his family had risen to the top. He had asked for her hand in marriage before the war, and now that it was after the war, he did just that. Hermione Weasley didn't have a ring to it, but it will do. After all, Hermione Weasley (nee Granger) was a logical person. It was illogical for her to have had a crush on Draco Malfoy since second year. It was illogical for her to have fallen in love with him. It was illogical that they kissed that day after his trial. It was illogical that they had a short-lived secret relationship. What was most illogical was that she didn't even think she was cheating on Ron. Following her heart had been the most thrilling and happy time of her life, but she had to revert to logic, where she belonged to Ronald Billius Weasley, and no one else. It hurt, however, that everything reminded her of Draco Malfoy. Even her daughter.

_Exactly 10 years ago_

"Surprise!"

"Draco, you shouldn't have!" He held out a bouquet of red roses to her. It warmed her heart, but she was worried. She knew after the war, the Malfoy name was in shambles. There was no way he had the galleons to buy her such a beautiful bouquet.

"I wanted to; it is our first week-versary after all. Besides, I think you've forgotten I'm a wizard. I couldn't have afforded this, but I did conjure the roses and wrapped it by wand," he said. A ghost of a smirk that used to condescendingly tower over Hermione was there, but it was playful. He'd really changed since their confessions.

"Thank you, I love them, Malfoy. Week-versary? I wonder what you'll give me next week. I didn't know that you knew how to wrap flowers, being such a spoiled brat," Hermione said, teasing back. It was nice, simply having him with her. They couldn't date in public, as both wanted to avoid rumours and such. _The Daily Prophet_ certainly would put in crude words about Draco's house arrest and trying to appeal to the public eye by going out with a "Mudblood". Hermione had a secret reason of her own, as well. If word ever reached Ron…. She already decided to break it off with Ron. There was no other way. The only problem was that Draco didn't know about the engagement, and Ron was grieving for the loss of Fred. It didn't seem right at all to tell him now.

"Well, _Granger_, if you love them so much, maybe if we ever have a daughter, we should name her Rose, after these roses I conjured for you." It was the first time either of them had ever talked about a future together. They'd shared kisses, secrets, held hands in the privacy of Hermione's flat, but to imply that there would be a future was exhilarating.

Pressing a kiss to his lips, Hermione asked, "And if our first born is a boy?"

"I suppose I have to start thinking of something masculine to give you next week, Mia," that was their relationship. Fun, teasing, loving, childish, and _interesting_. It was all the things she could never have with Ron. Sure, Ron made her laugh, but it wasn't the same. It was more so laughing _at_ him, than with him. Ron always took teasing the wrong way, and his jealous side never really let her explore her wit. The only thing she could really tease him about was his eating habits, which he was never shy of. She loved him, of course. They'd been best friends for the longest of time, but it wasn't the same. She couldn't fall _in_ love with him. She'd accepted the engagement because it was simply there. It was convenient, and with the war looming by, nobody would know what could happen. Ron acted childish, but in such a way that she had to be a mother. Marrying her would make her Mrs. Weasley #2, rather than Mrs. Ron Weasley. And simply, there was nothing interesting about their relationship. He never kept her on her toes the way Draco did. In short, she felt even stronger that she had to break it off with Ron.

Of course, this obviously never happened, but she did insist that she named her first daughter Rose. Hermione often wondered if she did the right thing in leaving Draco, and naming her daughter Rose.

_Exactly 9 years, 11 months, and 3 weeks ago_

True to his word, Draco brought Hermione to another date on their second week-versary. It was strange that he would celebrate every week they spent together, but she wasn't about to complain. It was endearing to know their relationship meant so much to him. On a whim, they'd gone on a picnic. It'd rained the day before, so they'd charmed the blanket to be completely water proof. Surprisingly enough, he'd also made the food by hand. Of all places for Draco Malfoy to own, even with his money stripped from him, he would still have the most beauteous of back yards. It wasn't really surprising, as the Ministry had allowed him to choose a flat worth 20,000 galleons and below. It was a small flat, but it was warm, unlike Malfoy Manor. She supposed the Ministry didn't want him to wander the streets, as they could have better control over him if he were dwelling under a roof. It would have been considered "dangerous" to allow him back into Malfoy Manor, where new dark artifacts were still being found every once in a while.

"This is wonderful. I never even knew that there would be so many stars visible!"

"There's always stars if you know where to look."

"How did you even find this place?"

"Magic," Draco said slyly. It was always like that with him, answering questions in such a way that made her want to hit him and kiss him at the same time. He was different. A bloke worth keeping. She decided to do both, lightly hitting his shoulder and kissing his cheek. When he protested the abuse to his shoulder, she pushed a strawberry to his lips, stopping him from talking.

"This is a wonderful date. What's your favourite constellation?"

"Scorpius. It's next to the constellation Draco, so I always feel like I have someone next to me, and I'm never alone. Though, I know I won't be alone anymore, now."

"You're such a slimy git, Malfoy."

"I love you too, Hermione." His eyes were full of promise: the one thing that Hermione cherished the most about their relationship. It was promising, taboo, and beautiful. It was like making a secret pact that would last a lifetime. She knew he was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her days with.

"I like your story. If we have a boy, let's name him Scorpius."

"I'd like that. I'd like to think I'd be there for him, and he'd never be alone. I want to be the father I never had to him."

"That's beautiful, Draco," and yet again, they shared another kiss.

_9 years and 8 months ago_

Hermione remembered this the most, because it hurt the most. She knew it'd come, the day when Ron decided to go on with their engagement. She never had the chance to break it off. She didn't have the heart to; the Weasley family was still so broken from the loss of Fred. They needed the cheers of a wedding to lift their spirits. She didn't want to, but she had to say goodbye to Draco Malfoy, the boy she'd crushed on, and the man she'd fallen in love with.

Maybe it was for the better. Ron could provide for her stability, while Draco could only give her hidden dates. Over the course of their two months together, they had gone from innocent kisses and holding hands, to energetic, sensual dances in the bedroom. It had all come so fast, and unfortunately, had to leave even quicker. Maybe Draco Malfoy was just a phase. She could learn to get over it, and perhaps love Ron. Ron was loveable. He was her best friend. She could learn to treasure him the way he treasured her. No, Draco would never be a mistake or regret. It was simply fulfilling a fantasy. It was time to come back to reality, now. Over the course of the past two months, she lived with no consequences, forgetting the pains of the war, letting everything slip away. She even allowed herself to forget the death of her parents and her dear friends (including Fred Weasley). It was a magical time, but as all dreams must end, so must this. She often wondered where her Gryffindor courage went, and why she was willing to repress her true thoughts and emotions to become what was expected of her.

"You seem pensive today, Love." _Love_. There was that word again. It stabbed her heart from the inside out, because she needed to end it today. She let him kiss her; she let his kisses trail down to her collarbone. If anything, this would be the last time. She wanted to feel him one last time. "Let me help you forget." And he did. He helped her forget everything for the past two months. And if even for just another hour or two, she needed to keep forgetting. Hermione flung the rest of her rational thoughts out the window, returning his passion tit for tat. _Just once more._

When she opened her eyes and saw his calm, serene face, she lost her nerve. His arm was still draped across her naked form, and tears fell silently from her eyes. She had to do this; she _had_ to. It was unfair for all of them, but it was the right thing to do. If anything, Ron would never know, and perhaps Draco would find happiness with someone else. Quietly, she replaced herself with pillows as she slid out of his warm arms. She will write him a note; there was no way she could tell him in person.

She never looked back. She was too much of a coward to. She never took back anything she left in his flat, either. She was only lucky the Weasley family and Harry had been too upset and in mourning to even notice her absence. Or perhaps they did, and thought she coped in a different way. She'd only talked to them twice during her entire relationship with Draco, and now that it was ending, she was to be a part of the Weasley family. It was no use in taking things back from Draco's flat from when she was a Granger, hopelessly in love with a Malfoy.

_Present_

Over the course of the past decade, she'd heard news of him every now and then. Word had it that she left him a broken man, drinking himself silly. It was only when he met Astoria Greengrass that his life settled, and eventually, he married her. It still pained her to know he'd found someone else. It was completely selfish of her to think so, as she was the one to leave him for Ron. While her heart reached out for him when he was broken, and she felt guilty, but she felt even guiltier that she wished he'd remained that way. She wished he would never get over her, the way she'd never gotten over him. It wasn't until then that she decided to officially consummate her marriage with Ron. It was also then that she became pregnant with Rose Weasley.

Hermione reckoned that Astoria Greengrass understood Draco. She, too, had turned from the dark side for the light side in the war. However, she was still condemned for the sins of her parents, and was also placed under house arrest. She and Draco shared that history, the pain. It was the part that Hermione could never fully understand, as she had been a part of the light side all along. She faced no consequences from the war; only suffered in the war. Of course, there was also the pains of missing her parents and mourning her friends, but that was something everyone else went through. She didn't have the trauma of being a puppet, and accused unjustly for being one. It was for the better that he'd found Astoria. She found herself hoping that like her, it was a marriage of convenience, rather than love. Selfish thoughts often entered her mind for the past decade.

When she heard about Scorpius Malfoy being born, her heart broke. It was _their_ name. Of course, she'd taken Rose, so it was only fair that he took Scorpius. She wondered if they would meet in Hogwarts… if they would be friends. She would know in two years' time. A part of her knew that Draco would be a better father than his own. She knew he would be there for Scorpius, letting Scorpius know that he was never alone. But another part of her also told her that it wasn't the reason behind Scorpius' name. Or maybe, it was what she hoped. She hoped that he felt the same, and named his son Scorpius to tell _himself_ that _he_ is also not alone. Maybe she left a hole in his heart that left him abandoned, and he needed Scorpius to fill it. Maybe he felt the same way she did. Maybe it was all wishful thinking.

It didn't matter anymore. They each had their own family to support. It was no use dwelling on what could never be, and what _almost_ was. If only she'd been brave enough to tell Ron the truth. If only she'd been brave enough to forgo the social norm, and let herself follow her heart.

She was a pathetic excuse for a Gryffindor, that was for sure. Maybe Draco's Slytherin side had rubbed off on her, and she lost the bravery she used to show with pride. Thinking of maybes and what if's wasn't going to help her dilemma, certainly. It only made her weaker, and wishing for more of what couldn't happen. At least she hadn't lost the Gryffindor pride.


	3. Bravery Found

_She's avoiding me._ _Maybe she feels the same way I do. Maybe she hates me. Maybe there really isn't anything anymore._ It's been hell without her. I dream of those eyes every night. I don't know which is worse, when I dream of the warm honey brown they become after making love, or when I dream of those blazing firewood brown eyes that threaten to set fire on me after a fight. Sometimes, though rarely, I dream of the liquid amber eyes that that reveal themselves to me so vulnerably when she cries. I wonder if she cried as hard as I did when she left. Those honey brown eyes just make me miss her that much more, but it's the _fire_ in them during an argument that makes me fall deeper in love. This is an atrocious mess.

It isn't fair to Astoria. But she knows. I know her story, too. We never tell each other when we do this, but when we feel lonely some nights, we spike our food with Polyjuice potion. It's funny, really. I felt guilty the first time I did it our wedding night. I had scoured my room for Hermione's hair, and brewed a large concoction of the vile potion. It wasn't the same as making love to Hermione, and consummating our marriage almost seemed wrong. At least when I looked into those eyes, for a split second, I could imagine I was taking off a wedding gown on Hermione. After dinner, imagine my surprise when I realized it was _Theo_ staring back at me in the mirror. I thought he was visiting me. As a ghost, I mean. Then, I realized perhaps Astoria and I were on the same boat. I never told her I knew, and I suspect she knows about Hermione. Silence is golden.

I'm not a man of many emotions, or words. I hardly show my emotions, at that, but I know she knows I'm hurt. I just need her to look at me so I can get confirmation that she doesn't love me anymore. _Bloody hell, I just want to know so I can move on_. _Maybe if she showed signs of not loving me any more, I can learn to love Astoria._ _I don't want to be alone anymore._ Letting go of Scorpius until the Yule holidays will be hard. He's the only thing… only one… keeping me alive. He shows me I'm not alone. He's the last tie I have to Hermione. Scorpius was _our_ name. If I wasn't wrong, Hermione and the weasel were sending off Rose. _Rose._ Another one of our names. I wonder if she chose that name to get back at me for using Scorpius, or if she missed me. I don't know which to hope for anymore.

_Wait! She's looking at me_. Those eyes. I don't know how I can move now. I suddenly became aware of Scorpius yelling that I was clutching his hand too hard, but sighed in relief the moment my entire body relaxed. I feel _numb_. I'm guiding my entire family towards _her_, unconsciously. I suppose consciously, now, but I was not in control. I hope I don't reach out and snog her senseless. That would have been quite awkward, to say the least.

I have no idea how I even spoke. "Weasley. Hermione. And hello there, you must be Rose," I bloody _swear_ I gagged afterwards. Her eyes turned fiery… and then melted to liquid amber. _She misses me. _But it was also that moment that I realized I couldn't leave Astoria. Over the years, I've learned to love her. Never the way I loved Hermione, but I loved her as a friend. A friend who was willing to stay because we understood each other. I could stand here and see Hermione, but Astoria will never get the chance to see Theo again. I knew how it felt to make love with someone who only looked like your lover through the Polyjuice potion. It was something I did often, and something I suspected we would do tonight.

"Malfoy, I'm a Weasley now, too."

"You'll have to specify to which Malfoy you're speaking to, Hermione," that was it. All the cards were lain on the table. We were both married. Perhaps a truth that both of us never really accepted until this moment. Her eyes spoke multitudes. _She still loves me_. I was astonished over the lack of control I had for my voice, because the next thing I said completely floored the world. "I still love you." It was one of those statements that hurt _everyone_. The entire world froze, or so it seemed. The weasel looked like he'd been punched in the gut. Tears were spilling out of Hermione's eyes. Astoria stiffened. Little Scorpius and Rose were the only two that didn't seem to be too affected; they were cheerfully chattering away about Hogwarts, from what I could see out of the corner of my eye. I'm not sure what I was looking for… what I was waiting for. _Confirmation_? She couldn't confirm anything. And even if she did… I wouldn't leave Astoria. I couldn't. It wouldn't have been fair. The same way she couldn't leave Ronald Weasley, the idiotic bloke whose smartest feat was to propose to her. He didn't deserve her, but who am I to judge? I'm an ex-Death Eater. At least the worst thing he's done was be too brash and jealous. The worst thing I've done was _kill_.

"I still love you, too. But it doesn't matter, does it?" _No, it doesn't_. "Draco, maybe it just wasn't meant to happen. Not in this lifetime." Weasley sunk to the ground.

"I knew you loved someone else, 'Mione. But… the Ferret?" He sounded strangely far away as he sank to the floor, obviously in grief. For a moment there, I felt for the bloke.

I closed my eyes, "If the world spun on a different axis… would you have stayed?" It was a loaded question, I know. I was asking for some sort of commitment on a level beyond even my own comprehension. I was asking her if she loved me enough to let us be known to the world. I was asking her if she still _does_ love me enough to go public, even though we couldn't during current circumstances. I was telling her that _I_ love her enough for all of that. I was letting myself be vulnerable, and asking her to do the same. I can be such a bloody git sometimes, especially with Weasley looking about to die at the moment from embarrassment and heartbreak.

"I would have."

"What's stopping you now?"

"The same thing that will stop you from being with me if I were the one who told you I still love you, first." _Bloody hell, she has a point_.

"I'm sorry."

"I left _you_."

"And I _let_ you." I don't want this. This is hurting too badly. I ignored the Weasel, but I couldn't ignore Astoria. I knew she was afraid to lose me. She was afraid to lose all she had. I finally had to accept that I'd lost Hermione _forever_.

Somewhere in the fog of my mind, I registered the whistle of the train, and Astoria pulled Weasley up, and the two of them were about to escort our respective children to the train. I gave Scorpius a tight hug, telling him I'd write as Hermione did likewise to Rose. Afterwards, we were back in our little world. The world where only the two of us existed, trying to solve our own problems, battling with the voices in our heads. Before we reached any conclusion, though, the _chug-chug-chug_ of the train began, and we were forced to turn and walk away when our spouses returned. I never looked back. I wonder if she did.

* * *

That was four months ago. Now, after the Yule holidays, we were here again, at the same Platform 9¾ where we first met and re-met. Weasley wasn't with her. Astoria had left me, so I was alone as well, with Scorpius. Astoria and I were still friends, but she had said she wanted to get over Theo the healthy way. Spiking my food with Polyjuice potion was obviously not her way of getting over someone the healthy to say, we didn't have drunken, Polyjuice spiked sex that night as I predicted. Maybe if we had consummated our marriage the normal way, this wouldn't have all happened. But I suppose I preferred it this way, as I'm now a free man to try and court Hermione. I suspect that the real reason Astoria left was that she wanted to give Hermione and I a chance. A true friend. I only wish I could have done something for her, but the selfish side of me just took her gift without anything in return. Perhaps I'll always be the same snarky Slytherin git on the inside.

She spoke first. "Ron wanted me happy. He left me so we could find our own happiness." _Hope_. That is the only way to describe how I felt the moment those words slipped from her lips. Merlin's underpants, I could bloody swear I hear someone singing _Hallelujah _in our presence.

"Astoria did the same, though she didn't confess it."

"Could we ever…"

"Hermione, I never stopped loving you. I would go back to the way it was in a heart beat. Anything's possible."

"Is it?"

"If you're brave enough to try." We kissed, again. At first, we bumped noses. I blame the nerves. When we tried again, it was sweet. Just like the first kiss we ever shared. We weren't snogging, but it was intimate and sensual all the same. I almost laughed at the collective "EW" that came from Scorpius and Rose. This was the way it was supposed to be. _Us_, as a family, with children that are completely floored and disgusted with PDA. I think our relationship finally found the bravery to happen. _Miracles _do happen.

* * *

A/N: OMG WHAT'S THIS? FF is finally letting me upload new stories, HURRAY!  
Please R&R. To be honest, I like the second one best, I'm kinda iffy about this one... I love critiques! ;)


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